


melted ice cream sandwiches

by seasunwrites



Series: those cruel summers [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), F/M, Multi, OR IS IT, Pre-The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), but I should write about them ngl, didm't put it as a relationship bc it just seemed more like friendship, idk how but some connabeth and silenabeth ended up here, thanks ash lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasunwrites/pseuds/seasunwrites
Summary: In which Percy and Annabeth have an argument, Connor Stoll chops off Annabeth's braid with a sword, and then she and Percy have a talk. It doesn't nearly go as planned, but at least they ate some ice cream sandwiches.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Connor Stoll, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Silena Beauregard & Annabeth Chase
Series: those cruel summers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131656
Comments: 9
Kudos: 66





	melted ice cream sandwiches

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh so this began as a fluffy one-shot I had in mind of Percy simping for Annabeth with short hair bc that's what I'd do, but it ended up as heavy angst. So. Sorry about that. Also kudos to Ash for influencing this subconsciously lol love u <3
> 
> Hope y'all like it, though :)

_(The Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap)_

> _A baby is born_
> 
> _Crying out for attention_
> 
> _The memories fade_
> 
> _Like looking through a fogged mirror_
> 
> _Decision to decisions are made_
> 
> _And not bought_
> 
> _But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot_
> 
> _I guess not_

“I’m your friend, of course I care!” 

“You shouldn’t be my friend! That way it wouldn’t hurt so much!” Annabeth says.

It had started off as a simple comment, nothing too serious. Something about Annabeth not wanting him to help with reports—but Percy’s beginning to realize that anything can explode into an argument.

“What are you talking about?” he demands. Luckily, they’re near the woods, so at least no demigod can hear them. Not like last time.

“Just—I’m _tired_ of you going away! You can’t have it both ways, Percy. Either you’re not my friend and forget about all this shit, or you stay here and fight _him_.”

“Why can’t I have it both ways? Last time I checked, I’ve spent enough time at camp to train. And why are you suddenly all gloomy and shit about being friends with me? Do you just...want me to be Luke? Make you _feel_ better? Do you even give a shit about what he did?”

Her face reddens. “Why would any of this be about _Luke?”_

“Because that’s all we fight about! You seem to have it in yourself to see him as this amazing hero when he’s the entire opposite of that!” Percy knows that what he’s saying is slightly ridiculous, and that she’s right; this has nothing to do about Luke, but he doesn’t particularly care at the moment. “Because the last prophecy was about _him!_ You ‘lost’ the bastard to Kronos and you want him back, is that it?”

“What? Yes, I want him back—but, no, I—” 

“He’s hurt you so much, Annabeth. You seriously care for him? You seriously don’t want to be my friend because you—you hate that I hate him?”

“Yes, I care for him! You didn’t _know_ him when I did—but you mean so much—”

“He wanted to kill you!” Percy grabs her by the shoulders so they’re face to face, so she understands exactly what he’s talking about. “He doesn’t fucking care! Why can’t you see that?”

“All I see,” Annabeth seethes, shoving him off, “is a scared little boy who wants everything to be black and white.”

“You’re one to talk, telling me that I have to either stay in New York or stay at camp. I’m _trying_ to make that work—”

“Work how, exactly? So that everyone here takes on the weight of the war while you go off and act all ‘normal’? Here’s a quick disclaimer: you’re not _normal_ , Percy!”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m _this_ close to probably dying, so forgive me for wanting to cool off a bit.”

They’re nose to nose now, and Percy can feel Annabeth breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

“Shut up,” she says.

“What?”

“Just, _shut up!”_

She storms away before he can say anything else. The early singing of the birds doesn't sound so sweet anymore.

He can see her wipe at her face angrily as she runs to gods know where. He knows that she won’t let him see her cry.

  
  


:

  
  


He’s in the archery class, trying not to kill anyone, when he hears commotion by the arena. 

“No! I’m fine!” a familiar voice keeps insisting—Annabeth. 

She stomps past a very concerned-looking Connor. Her hair is pulled into two braids, as it was earlier in the morning. She’d been experimenting with different hairstyles—it probably had something to do with Silena’s influence—but now, Percy realizes that one of her braids is missing. It had been cut off, by the looks of it. 

He lowers his bow, walking over to them. Something had happened, and it hadn’t been good. 

“I’m so sorry, ‘Beth,” Connor says, this time truly sounding sorry. “I didn’t know that you wouldn’t block me—if there’s any way to repay you—“

She stops her fast-walking and turns towards him. “You’ve done enough.”

“Okay but I—”

“Hey!” Percy calls out as he approaches them. “What happened?” Annabeth suddenly starts walking again.

Connor stares at him sheepishly. “I sort of, um, cut her hair.”

Percy ignores him. “Annabeth? Come on! Don’t walk away—I’m asking you something!”

“And I don’t care to answer.”

“Can I help? In any way?”

“I don’t need your help, either.”

He sprints over to her anyway, grabbing one of her shoulders. “Come on, why—”

She shoulders him off.

Percy hears the steady footsteps of someone right behind them: Connor. 

“Annabeth. Please,” he pants, running ahead and facing her. He walks backwards while she walks forward, a mule with a job in mind. “I’m so sorry. But _where_ are we going?” 

“‘We?’” she mutters, not looking at either of them. “None of your fucking business, assholes. Now leave me alone!"

Annabeth shoves them out of her path and runs. Runs before either of them can catch up. She’s always been faster than both of them.

What hits him there in the middle of a summer day, staggered with only a son of Hermes as a companion, is the pain he heard in her voice. And Percy has a feeling that it’s more than just her missing braid. 

No, he is the cause of that pain—he’s the one to blame. And he feels like dying a little. 

:

  
  


He sits by the canoe lake, the sun reaching further west because of the time. But even with the sun not directly above him, it still feels like laser beams down his neck.

Silena meets him there. Her camp shirt is tucked into her shorts in a stylish way that very few people can achieve, hair perfectly in place and without even a slight sheen of sweat on her face.

Percy doesn’t know how she does it. It’s the middle of July, after all. 

She sits down, pulling her legs into her chest and leaning in, watching him.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

She sighs, though it’s barely noticeable. “I came to talk to you. About Annabeth.”

He catches her gaze, but for the first time, Percy can’t tell what she’s thinking. 

“She’s fine. If that’s what’s worrying you. Well, not exactly ‘fine,’ but—like, she’s not hurt. Physically.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Silena snorts and follows his eyes towards the swaying trees on the other side of the lake. They look so peaceful there, almost as if they’re dancing. Maybe they are. Maybe they don’t care about wars or drama. 

_Good for them._

“No,” she muses. “I guess she’s hurting, and not just because I had to cut so much of her pretty hair. Almost made _me_ want to cry. She didn’t say much, but I can always tell when you two had a fight.”

“If you’re here to lecture me—”

“Oh, come on. I may be close to her, but I’m not the type to meddle. I just came here to tell you that you should talk to her.”

“Then you _are_ meddling.”

She laughs. “Okay, maybe I am. And maybe I also talked to her about it. She’s not _that_ mad at you. Mostly sad. It would do you both good if you actually worked things out.”

“Trust me, she hates me at the moment.”

“And trust me, she doesn’t. She _wants_ you to go to her.”

They stare at each other, both gazes challenging, until one of them loses.

Percy breathes out a sigh of defeat. “Fine.”

 _Girls are so weird,_ he thinks.

But maybe he says that part aloud, because Silena rolls her eyes. “I heard that.”

“Of course you did.”

She winks at him. “Maybe you should give her an ice cream sandwich. You know, as a truce. I heard that the Hermes cabin stashed some from their last raid.”

“Um, I thought Annabeth wanted to talk to me. Why would we need a truce?”

“Oh, she certainly does. But ice cream never hurt anyone.”

“Fine. Whatever you say.”

“That’s the spirit,” she grins.

  
  


:

  
  


Percy finds her at the beach, in the part where grass is more common than sand. It’s dry and brittle, yellowed from scarce rain—but next to her it looks like golden thread.

Her hair is cut just above her shoulders, like a bob. He’d never seen her with short hair before, but he thinks that it makes her look older, in a way. Changes from that pretty girl he’d met nearly four years ago to a beautiful young woman. At least that’s what she’s making him feel.

_Gods, she’s too good for me._

Percy takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Hopefully this can end well, because just by looking at her makes him nervous.

Annabeth had probably heard him coming, since she doesn’t startle at the sound. 

_That could be a good sign._

“Mind if I join you?”

She says nothing, but she also doesn’t protest when Percy sits down next to her.

“Uh…” He takes out the ice cream sandwiches that were in his pocket. “Do you, like, want any?”

She nearly smiles. Nearly. And she nods hesitantly, snatching one from his hand.

Good.

He doesn’t care that she still can’t meet his eyes. Or maybe he does care. And maybe he also cares that the space between them feels like the wind holding its breath, how her skin looks so warm, but instead of feeling it, he feels the grass tickling his legs.

“Um, it—you look pretty, that way…” he says, mainly to break the silence, but now he wants to slap himself. “Not that your hair wasn’t pretty before or anything. Well, not your hair, I mean—you were pretty before. Uh, not that you’re not pretty now—”

“It’s okay, Seaweed Brain. I get it. My haircut isn’t that bad.” 

He can see her smiling from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t remember the last time she called him by his old nickname, least of all smile. Hopefully he isn’t blushing as much as he thinks.

“Silena helped. Before, it looked like half of my hair had been chopped with a sword—which it had, I guess. I’m still planning my revenge.”

“For Connor?”

Annabeth turns to Percy. “Yes. _Connor…_ ” her gaze falters. She stares longingly out at the ocean, eyes blinking rapidly. 

They don’t say much for a while, but rather listen to the song of the birds and the wind and the ocean. The grass between them flutter like butterflies, slight touches against their legs.

Annabeth rips the plastic off the ice cream sandwich and takes a big bite. He slips off the package of his own sandwich as well, but stops to notice how the vanilla melts under her fingers and how it oozes from her mouth and down to her chin. His own hands are covered in the soft feeling of the chocolate cookie, sticky and gross; his sandwich is almost melted in the harsh sunlight. He doesn’t wipe his hands away or feel like eating it anymore, and she doesn’t care to clean her chin up, either.

They’re both a mess.

The vanilla ice cream softens in his mouth, and an explosion of chocolate sweetness ensues after, but not before a big portion of the sandwich falls into his shorts and slips into the dry grass between his legs. 

He hates ice cream sandwiches. 

Why it was a good idea to share some in Long Island, during the warm days of summer, he has no idea. But the spray of salt that kiss their cheeks alongside the cacophonous roar of the waves make the situation not that horrible. At least in Percy’s opinion. Also Annabeth not mad at him anymore is a plus. Or perhaps she is. Their fight earlier in the day wasn’t exactly pretty. 

She finishes her sandwich and licks some of the chocolate off her fingers.

“I just,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’m tired. Of the same thing. Over and over. It’s not even Connor’s fault. Hell, this time it’s not your fault, either. I’m just...stupid.”

“Hey. Don’t ever say that. You are many things, Annabeth Chase, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

She must feel his heated gaze on her, because she meets his eyes. She quickly wipes away her tears.

“Maybe I wasn’t before. But now, I kind of am. I—I get carried away by you and how you’re never here, and I don’t even think about how close we are to the end, and then I can’t even fight well anymore—so Connor fucking _Stoll_ cuts off one of my braids.

“And then I look _weird_ and I can’t even cut my hair properly, so Silena helps and she looks at me like I’m...like I’m some poor creature! And I’m not! I just want things the way they were with my hair the way it was and with no wars and no prophecies and no shitty feelings and no...no traitors! I don’t care about quests, or glory—I can’t even fucking do that right because you almost died and Luke is now freaking possessed—and I...I want everything back the way it _was!”_ she sobs into her hands, smearing her face with the remaining ice cream and chocolate.

Percy doesn’t know what to do. He wants to hug her, pull her close and tell her it’ll be alright. Kiss the top of her head and reassure her that they’ll make it out alive. But he doesn’t. Or at least, he doesn’t say any of those things.

But he does scoot closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing her head against the crook of his neck. He lets her weep until there are no tears left, lets her wrap her own arms around his neck. That way, they can hold each other properly. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after her breathing has calmed down. Her short hair feels like silk against his hands.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that will...who will…” She hiccuped. “Gods, you don’t even know, and, and everything is supposed to be fine anyway!”

“What do I not know? You can tell me, ‘Beth. I’m your best friend.”

She shakes her head, mouth tightly closed, but soon her face contorts into another sob, and her hand comes up to her mouth to cover it. He holds her closer to his chest, not caring about how much ice cream has been smeared in the process.

“No, no,” she cries. “I—I can’t say. It doesn’t matter, anyway.” 

After a few minutes, her tears run warm and her breathing relaxes once again. The waves calm to the soothing sounds of water meeting shore. He obviously had a hand in that. But everything stops to a halt, and it comes down to Percy and Annabeth, holding each other. Just like in Siren Bay, only now things aren’t so simple. They know more than they should.

“If anyone should be sorry,” she whispers against his shirt, “it’s me.”

His hand tightens against her shoulders, but he doesn’t protest. It’s no use to try and contradict her right now.

Slowly, her arms loosen their hold on him and she sits down like she was before, but now she’s significantly closer to Percy, hips touching. 

Annabeth breathes deeply, staring at her hands. They’re a mess of ice cream and grass; she wipes them away with her shirt. Then, she tries to do the same with her face.

“Here, I uh…brought some napkins.” He fishes around in his pockets until they come up, offering some to her.

She grabs a handful. “Thanks.”

He looks at her while she works, until finally he says, “None of that is your fault.”

Her hands stop moving. She closes her eyes.

“But it is.” Percy almost doesn’t hear her. Almost lets the roaring winds drown her down, under the waves. A whisper amidst the sound of thunder.

Of course, he does hear.

“ _Why_ would all of this crap be your fault?”

“Because I couldn’t convince Luke to stay at camp. I had my chance, and I didn’t take it. Because I almost let you die.”

“First of all, you could never have changed Luke. I know you hate me saying it, but he’d already made his decision. And...well, I made my decision as well.”

“Like how you’ll make your decision to go to New York? During the summer?” Her voice isn’t accusing or angry, but desperate and soft.

“No, I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah I do. I won’t visit New York in a while, if...that’s what you want.”

“Of _course_ it’s what I fucking want!” 

He silently cringes at that. _Wrong thing to say._

She sniffles the last of her tears and glares at him, eyes red. 

“You’ll leave me anyway, sooner or later. Everyone leaves, and—and you’re no exception, Perseus Jackson. You hear me? You are _not_ the exception!” As she says every word, she rips out the grass stems around her; they make popping sounds as the roots come off the ground. Her lips tremble and her eyes shine with fresh tears, but she doesn’t stop. 

“Fuck, I don’t care if you go out to that wonderful city of yours with your pretty girlfriend to forget about your problems. That’s great—I wish _I_ could do that. But your problems are very much real, and the people here are _counting_ on you. Has it ever crossed your mind that they miss you? That _I_ miss you? Why is staying here for a bit longer so bad?” 

Something in Annabeth’s tone makes Percy feel like he’s stepping on a floor filled with broken glass.

“I—”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It’s—you’re not the problem. I don’t want to argue anymore. I just want to...spend more time with you.” She takes a rattling breath and looks at him directly in the eye once again. Her face is a wet sheen of tears, despite wiping them off with a napkin earlier. “All I meant to say is that we don't…” her train of thought stops; she stares at her hands. “We don’t have forever. And maybe you don’t think that you’ll leave me, but you don’t know that.”

“No one has forever. Unless you’re a god.”

She laughs bitterly. “That’s my point. If we don’t have forever, then why won’t you stay here? With us? Spend what little we have together.”

“Okay.”

She glances at him, stunned. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not? We’re at a summer camp. I’m supposed to enjoy things. Not leave. I’m...sorry about that.”

“No, I,” she sighs, “I get why you’ve been leaving. But, yeah, it would be nice if you could stay.”

“That’s what I’m planning to do,” he gins, content that for the first time in a while, he’s made Annabeth happy.

“Thanks for the ice cream sandwich, by the way.” She smiles, and some could say that it’s a weak attempt to seem grateful or content, but Percy knows that it’s genuine.

“Yeah. No problem.”

:

  
  


That night, Percy lets Sally know that he won’t be coming home in a while. For now, he _is_ home. And Annabeth is his best friend, and so is Grover. And he can count on Beckendorf and Travis and Connor. They’re part of who he is, he realizes. And camp feels like belonging and the warmth of a thousand fires and a thousand starry nights.

But the missions and war preparations begin again.

And they both end up fighting. Nothing Percy says to Annabeth is right. Being without her hurts, but staying hurts even more.

He leaves the next morning. 

Maybe after the summer is over, they can confront the feelings they have. Maybe they can fix whatever is broken between them when the war ends, and if they’re ready, be more than just friends. Maybe he’ll never have the courage to tell her that. Or maybe he’ll die. Maybe Kronos will win. 

As Percy trudges up Half-Blood Hill, he feels someone watching him. He turns around, and there she is, her arms crossed and golden hair loose; it still hasn’t grown enough for her to put it in a ponytail. He can’t make out the look on Annabeth’s face, but he waves at her awkwardly all the same.

She doesn’t wave back.

When he sees Peleus’ smoke coming from Thalia’s tree, he looks back again. But she’s gone.

He hates ice cream sandwiches, but he hates his life more.

**Author's Note:**

> Percy and self deprecation go hand in hand, sorry (kinda) but yeah this hurt to write haha. Kudos and comments are appreciated, and my Tumblr is @chironshorseass, where hopefully I'll post more stuff. Hopefully. 
> 
> The verse at the beginning is from the song 'Kids' by MGMT. I thought it fit with the one-shot, so I just added it in.


End file.
